


this baggage is not regulation

by 195cmclub (Claw512)



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 06:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claw512/pseuds/195cmclub
Summary: “I don't want to see you anymore. Just take what’s yours and leave. WHY are you lifting me up?”“Following your direction. Didn’t you say to take what’s mine and leave?”They fought about something, like always.They made up, like always.





	this baggage is not regulation

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I do at 1:20 in the morning instead of sleeping.
> 
> Unbeta.

Trish didn’t even need to walk through the front door to hear the commotion going on inside the house. She eyed the key hole for a good few seconds, listening to the muffled shouting, then decided to turn away and leave.

Dante got himself into this, he could get himself out.

Or not. Trish sighed happily as she put more distance between her and the house, and the shouting faded away. Either way, she really wasn’t in the mood to get herself dirty today.

Nero couldn’t book it out of there fast enough.

It all started out so nicely too. It was rare enough that the three of them got to lounge around enjoying a nice sunny day together. Vergil broke out his nice brew of tea and Dante somehow got his hands on some cakes the day before, so Nero was just indulging himself. He lost track of the conversation for a few minutes while he was reading, and the next thing he knew Dante was raising his voice.

Actually that wasn’t much of a concern. Dante always tended to speak a little loud when he got roused up. What set off the danger alarm was that Vergil answered, once, very tersely, in his pompous ‘i-am-disappointed-and-annoyed’ tone, about two decibels above his usual speak. Nero hated that combination. It was the equivalent of standing on the countertop screaming for normal people. And then when Dante continued there was this low, booming, inhuman edge in his voice. So Nero closed the book hastily and beelined for the door with his cake.

If they couldn’t resolve this he would deal with the fallout later. It was a nice day and he was too high on sugar to deal with two pissy half-demons fighting.

Lady didn’t even come near the house. She heard it all from Trish.

Dante, at this point, had kind of forgotten what started this.

But he knew that he was angry. At Vergil, mostly. And the smug calm look on his face. When Vergil dealt with human, his cold emotionless demeanor was quite cool. He had to have one of the best game faces Dante had ever seen. Hell knew it had turned Dante on more than once. But now, it only served to piss him off more. He hated the feeling it provoked, like he was so insignificant to Vergil his twin couldn’t even bother to spare an expression.

And he hated that question. That coldly “what do you want from me Dante” that somehow hurt more than any time Vergil had run his sword through him.

“Screw this,” Dante said in the end, gritting his teeth. He thrust his hand into his hair anxiously and pushed it roughly away from his face. He turned his back so he was looking down at the counter instead of Vergil’s bottomless eyes. “I don’t want to deal with you. Disappear like you always do. Bring your stuff too, I don’t want to see them.

“Just take what’s yours and leave.”

Vergil didn’t answer. Dante hadn’t expected him too. Fine, I’ll leave then, he thought, already had his safe house (a ‘haunted’ abandoned villa in town) in mind. His back still turned towards his brother, Dante headed to the front door.

Something wrapped around his ankles and tied them together. Dante, knowing he would lose his balance and fall nose-first to the floor, tried to break his fall by putting his hands out, but the thing quickly crept up his torso and bound his arms to his body too. Dante could only let out a loud ‘ARGH’ and turned himself mid-fall so his shoulder took most of the impact instead of his face.

“WHAT,” exclaimed Dante. He struggled (wiggled) furiously on the floor. The strand of rope was golden in colour, glistened slightly under the sun. It also wrapped tightly around him from ankles to elbows. Dante was two seconds from bursting into Devil Trigger and ripping it up when...

Vergil looped his fingers under the parts of the strand that was on Dante’s stomach and lifted him up like one would lift up a suitcase. Then, his still steaming mug of tea in one hand and Dante in the other hand, he started walking to the entrance.

“WHAT do you think you’re doing?” Dante said, struggling (squirming) fiercely against his bondage. He turned his arm but the rope didn’t get broken, just simply expanded to accommodate his enlarged appendage.

Dante was livid.

He was going to get out of this. And then he would maim Vergil for making fun of him like this, for never taking him seriously, for fucking off for how many years and for... for...

Everything, Dante thought, everything.

“Wasn’t this your request?” Vergil’s voice cut through his musing of torture and murder. “That I should take what’s mine and leave?”

“What? That’s MY tea mug. And what do I have to... oh...”

His twin kicked the door open, something so very un-Vergil-like.

It was still sunny and nice.

And then, just like that, all the fight drained out from Dante. He never liked fighting anyway. Not this kind of fighting. He stopped struggling and Vergil stopped walking. Sometimes, Dante hated how easily he caved. The smallest of hint of affection from his brother, and he gave up. Because, in the end, that was all he wanted, really. Dante would never even have escalated the fight if Vergil just got the hint from the start.

Dumb Vergil. Idiot Vergil.

Vergil let him down gently on the ground. Dante slumped. His older twin followed and sat down gracefully on the grass in front of him. He leaned forwards to peer at Dante’s expression. As expected, sulking.

“I’m sorry,” Vergil said, “for not understanding.”

“I hate you.” Dante replied.

“Yeah.” Vergil smiled, just barely. “So you’ve said.”

“I hate when you bring up stuff from when I was a brat too.” Dante replied, looking at Vergil’s knee. Who hadn’t said ‘i hate you’ to their older siblings a few times in their lives. Especially a lively pouty child like Dante used to be.

“You’re still a brat.” Vergil answered. He carefully brushed Dante’s hair away from his face and tucked it behind his ear. His fingertips glided against Dante’s skin tenderly.

“Untie me.” Dante demanded.

“No.” Vergil answered. He unfolded his long legs and slowly lowered himself down so he was lying on his side next to Dante. “Turns out I prefer you like this. I can just hoist you up and bring you with me anywhere.”

The places that Vergil went, had gone. The bottom of depravity, the dark end of humanity, the top of suffering, the pinnacle of power, the endless expanse of love.

Dante squirmed closer to his brother so he could bury his face into the space just above Vergil’s collarbones, and breathed in the scent that was just Vergil.

He would have left. Dante.

“I am not leaving.” Vergil said. “I hope you know that.” 

Silence. Nothing but the rustling sound his jacket made as Vergil stroked his back slowly. It seemed even the birds were scared away.

“I still hate you.” He managed.

Vergil chuckled.

Next thing Dante knew, he was rolled onto his back, the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, and Vergil, hovering on top of him, was licking his lips.

“Now,” Vergil said smugly, placing his hand on the newly exposed part of Dante’s chest. “I wonder what I can do about that.”

Nero returned about three hours later. He looked at the messed up patch of grass at the entrance a little suspiciously. When he stepped inside, Vergil was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper, Dante nowhere to be found.

“Where did you hide his body?” Nero asked, only half-kidding.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nero. Had I killed him I would have eaten him afterwards. No trace for the authority.” Vergil didn’t miss a beat, and Nero really tried to not think about that statement for too long. He also tried really hard to not notice the purplish red mark on Vergil’s neck. “He went to exorcise a maple tree. You just missed him.”

Sensing that everything was okay for now, Nero sighed in relief and let himself drop to the couch.

“Is there any cake left?”


End file.
